


i am a lost boy

by tarte



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Backstory, Bullying, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Childhood, Happy Ending maybe, Injury, Loss of Trust, Original Character(s), Other, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Teen Angst, Trust Issues, idk - Freeform, jumin-centric fic, lol, rip jumin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 05:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8316412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarte/pseuds/tarte
Summary: my only friend was the man in the moon, and sometimes he would go away too. “That’s anger, Jumin. It’s an emotion.”“Oh, like happiness and sadness, right?”“That’s right,” Teacher Jung smiled and brushed back the hair from his forehead, “It’s normal to feel angry.”“So I’m normal, then.”“Indeed you are.”canon compliant, jumin-centric fic exploring different stages of Han Jumin's life.





	

**Author's Note:**

> thanking ethel, miya, jay and billy for your critique! really pumps me up to have such wonderful friends like you.

  1. _childhood_



Jumin couldn’t remember the last time he opened up to somebody.

Well, he could. But it was so long ago that it felt more like a dream than something that actually happened.

As a child, his father was never around enough for him to learn how to deal with his own emotions. All that was left to the maids and butlers that roamed around the halls in the three story mansion that Jumin had grown up in. Mannerisms were taken care of by Teacher Kim, and academics were taken care of by Teacher Jung.

He rarely saw his father at his young age. When he did though, he always saw him with a new woman. Jumin was well educated and he was extremely intelligent. He would always score really well in his tests, and he could memorise entire chapters within a day. His intelligence wasn’t limited to only his academics, however. He knew for a fact that every new woman he saw with his father didn’t truly love him, and only wanted him for his money. This was heavily hinted to him in overheard phone calls and the sickly-sweet act that the women would have when they tried to con him for his wealth. As a result, Jumin found it difficult to trust the people around him. It was quite obvious with how he distanced himself from the maids and butlers in the mansion, wondering if they would use him for his status as a wealthy man’s son. 

Teacher Jung wasn’t one of those people, however. The man had shown great care of Jumin, often acting as his listening ear and his guide in place of his father. He would come to check on the young boy when he was sick, and he would read books with him before bed. The older man loved Jumin like his own son, and Jumin had placed complete and full trust in him.    
One thing greatly worried the teacher, however. He noticed that Jumin didn’t have friends his age to play with, and he feared that that would have an impact on the young boy’s development.

He never did have an interest in interacting with people his age, however.

Jumin was content with playing with his own toys. It wasn’t as if he was alone either. On Mondays, Tuesdays, and Fridays, he would have little tea parties with his plushies and Teacher Jung. On the rest of the days, he would immerse himself in the several leather-bound books that filled his bookshelf, exploring other worlds as he sat in his chair quietly. Once in a while, Jumin would go outside and take a walk as he checked birds and flowers off a little list he carried. The many encyclopedias that filled the shelves had given him an interest in hunting for these flowers in his gardens.

While sitting at the window ledge one day, he gazed at the kids who had trespassed into their property for the fifth time that week. He wondered as he watched them kick the soccer ball around on the grassy lawn.  _ How is it like to play with others like that? Won’t they get dirty? Maybe their teachers didn’t teach them how to maintain their hygiene? _

His curiosity got the better of him one day when he decided to go outside for a walk, after spotting those kids on the lawn again.

“Hey,” He said, as he stopped in front of the group, “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like we’re doing? We’re playing, duh!” The leader, Jumin presumed, had picked up the ball and jabbed a finger at him, looking quite irritated.

Jumin didn’t know how to react. A rude boy was here on his lawn, playing soccer with his friends, and he had replied so rudely after he had merely asked a question. There was an unpleasant warmth that bubbled in his chest, and Jumin felt his heart begin to pound.

He felt absolutely awful, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

“Hey! Are you mute? You can’t speak?” The rude boy passed the ball to one of his friends and began to roughly shove Jumin back.

“Yah, Min-soo! I think he’s that boy from the mansion! You know, the one with no friends!” The entire group began to laugh, and the unpleasant feeling in Jumin’s stomach grew stronger.

“Aw, that’s too bad—“ The group’s leader laughed, “This guy will be alone forever!”

He didn’t know how to react. All Jumin felt was an unpleasant burn in his face and torso. What happened next was all but a blur to him.

Jumin pushed the leader to the ground, and he began to hit him with his fists, feeling the fury work its way into his punches. He didn’t know what to say, what to do, all he did was to land punches on the boy’s face and chest as he vented his discomfort onto him. He yelled, he screamed and pulled at hair.

The boy’s friends didn’t simply allow their leader to be beaten up this way, however. After getting over the initial shock of the silent boy suddenly blowing up in aggression, the whole group quickly pulled their leader away from him. Some of the boys returned blows with Jumin, leaving bruises all over his face and chest.

He couldn’t remember what happened next. All he remembered was going back inside with an aching pain in his chest while he breathed, and everything went black.

Jumin remembered waking up in a luxurious hospital bed, with band-aids covering one side of his face and a very sharp pain as he tried to move. He looked up and spotted Teacher Jung.

“ _ Seonsang-nim _ ? What are you doing here? Where am I?” He asked, pushing himself to sit up. Teacher Jung quickly ran over and gently pushed him back down, shaking his head and murmuring to him. He couldn’t hear it, but Teacher Jung had mumbled something along the line of ‘ _ this poor boy _ ’ and ‘ _ his stupid father _ ’.

“Jumin-a. Don’t move, you’ll hurt your ribs even more.”

“My ribs? What happened to my ribs?” Jumin looked shocked, wondering what had happened to land him in this situation.

“You got into a scuffle on the lawn. Your ribs were fractured,” Teacher Jung said as he pulled the blanket over the young boy, making sure he was warm and comfortable. “You’re in the hospital.”

“Oh. Right.” He remembered the group ganging up on him. The memory was still hazy, but the mere thought of it had brought that uncomfortable burning in his chest again. The foreign feeling made him feel abnormal as if an alien feeling had suddenly taken control of his heart. Jumin had no idea how to handle it.

“ _ Seonsang-nim _ , can I ask you a question?” Jumin looked up at his teacher as one hand tugged at his own sleeve. Teacher Jung knew everything, so maybe he could tell him about this discomfort that he was experiencing.

“What is it, Jumin?”

“When one of those boys said some things, I felt very uncomfortable. Like, there was a volcano in my chest, and everything was very warm. Even now, when I think about that boy’s words again, I feel really uncomfortable. Am I sick?” Teacher Jung stared at his student and laughed. How could someone sound so intelligent and naïve at the same time?

“That’s anger, Jumin. It’s an emotion.”

“Oh, like happiness and sadness, right?”

“That’s right,” Teacher Jung smiled and brushed back the hair from his forehead, “It’s normal to feel angry.”

“So I’m normal, then.”

“Indeed you are.”

When Jumin had fallen asleep a while later, Teacher Jung sighed as he gently stroked his hair.

“Jumin-a,” He muttered, “I’m sorry your father is never around. I hope that at least I can replace that void in your heart temporarily.”

While Teacher Jung stayed by his side as the sun set outside the window, the young boy dreamed of playing in the hallways of his mansion with his father.

 

_ The paper airplanes he tossed soared through the space, before landing at the feet of the man. _

_ “Did you see that,  _ appa _? The paper airplane flew really really far!” Jumin shouted excitedly as he ran towards the adult, only to realise that the man was not his father but instead Teacher Jung. _

_ “I did, son! That’s my boy! Come give your  _ appa _ a hug!” His teacher knelt in front of him with his arms wide open. _

_ Jumin ran into Teacher Jung’s embrace, feeling absolutely loved. _

_ “I love you,  _ appa _.” _

_ “I love you too, son.” _

  
When Jumin woke up, Teacher Jung was fast asleep, and the former gazed at his sleeping form. He didn't noticed the tears that slid down the side of his head as he wondered how his life would have ended up if his surname was Jung instead of Han.

**Author's Note:**

> some translations!
> 
> Seonsang-nim: teacher  
> appa: father (informal)
> 
> \--  
> whew. i just got my timetable for the next semester, and there are TONS of packed classes together. I do have a lot of free time though, that's nice! Anyway, I decided to write this fic because I felt that the MysMes fandom sexualises Jumin too much. OTL I feel that Jumin's character is a lot more than bondage ropes and handcuffs, because there are a lot of things in Jumin's backstory that was not quite revealed in the game I guess? I might not be correct rip  
> i'll do my best to update this story as soon as possible, thanks for all your support!
> 
> please do leave some critique if you liked this work!  
> twitter: @kimochees  
> tumblr: kimochees101.tumblr.com


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